


Holding out for a Hero

by FrankieAlton



Category: The Artist (2011)
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:45:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankieAlton/pseuds/FrankieAlton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10 drabbles about the relationship of George Valentin and Peppy Miller, both during the course of the movie and after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding out for a Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Just saw The Artist two days ago and I am in love with it. I just had to write something and this seemed like a good place to start.
> 
> This was written using the prompt table Hurt/Comfort from the 10_per_genre community on LiveJournal. However, I think some might be more angst than h/c, but they’re kinda similar so it’s okay.
> 
> Also these are in no particular order and occur during, and after, the events of the film. Enjoy!

01\. Pain

Peppy still did not know what had happened. It was a dance they had rehearsed dozens of times. She and George had it down, or so she thought, yet she missed a step and twisted her ankle hard.

She fell to the floor, clutching her ankle and hissing in pain. George was at her side immediately, resting his hand reaffirmingly on her shoulder.

Her eyes were wet with tears when she looked up at him. The look on his face told her that he felt guilty for what had just happened. “It’s not your fault,” she said softly, as she wiped the tears from her cheek.

He nodded and smiled brightly at her.

She found herself relaxing, despite the fact that her ankle was still throbbing with pain. George always made her feel better, even without speaking a word. She wanted to kiss him, to cling tightly to him, but they had to be careful to show restraint on set. Instead she placed her hand over his and squeezed it gently. “Thank you,” she whispered with a small smile.

 

02\. Relief            

George had always turned to liquor when he needed relief. In his darker moments he would drink until he went numb. He would drink until he passed out in a seedy bar somewhere, yet managed to find himself back in his own bed in the morning with no clue how he had gotten there.

He did not drink so much these days, fortunately. Now that he was making movies with Peppy, he did not feel the pull of alcohol as strongly as he had in the past.

However there were times, such as cast parties or premieres, where he would seek out the familiar comfort of whiskey. He was not sure he would ever quite fit in with this world again. He found it hard to interact with the younger actors. Though his accent had never been an issue in the past, it was now a liability.

He tried to control himself, though he knew that he could not do it alone. Peppy was good at keeping him from going too far. A simple smile from her as she gently touched his hand was all it took for him to set his drink down. No words were spoken, yet the glimmer in her eyes said volumes. She was his relief now.

 

03\. Nightmare  

Peppy rolled over in bed, awakened by George who was tossing wildly and making soft, indecipherable noises.

“George,” she whispered, shaking him gently. “George, wake up.”

He blinked a few times, struggling to focus on her face in the dim moonlight. “Nightmares again?” he asked quietly in his thickly accented voice.

She nodded and brushed a few loose strands of hair from his forehead. She let her fingertips trail down his face, tracing a path along his cheekbones down to his chin.

He smiled weakly and he took her hand in his, planting a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

Peppy tried to smile back, but she felt the nightmares were her fault. They seemed to get worse after they had been busy filming. She knew he loved making movies, but it was still stressful to him. She was the one who had dragged him back into this world, and though she had done it for him, part of her still wondered if she had also done it for herself.

The nightmares all seemed to be the same, at least they were as far she could tell. George did not like to talk about them much. Well, he did not like to talk much in general, but she was okay with that. She could always tell how he felt, and what he was thinking, just by the look on his face. And the look on his face when he woke up from these nightmares was heart-wrenching.

“I’m sorry,” Peppy apologized. “I know it gets to you, the stress of filming. We don’t have to keep doing this. Not if you don’t want to.”

George grinned and placed two fingers gently over her mouth. She knew what he was trying to say. He constantly reminded her that she talked too much.

Peppy sighed and moved closer to him, resting her head on his chest. “Go back to sleep,” she said gently. “And no more nightmares this time.” She felt him nod as she drifted back to sleep.

 

04\. Trust/Distrust 

Clifton told him to trust Peppy, but George just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Was it just his pride? Was he really that vain that he would refuse help from the young woman who had gone out of her way to care for him?

Yet he still could not bring himself to trust her. She had made her way to the top, and he had been the start of it. She seemed kind, she seemed like she only wanted the best for him, but what if he was being deceived? What if this script she handed him was merely a ploy for her to gain more fame?

George knew that wasn’t really the case though. He could trust Peppy. She was genuine and pure in his motives. It was himself that he didn’t trust. He had it all once, and he lost it all. He was not sure he could take that risk again.

And he was not sure he could risk hurting her. That was it. He did not trust himself with her. She idolized him, and he was not sure he could ever live up to her expectations of him. He ran from her house, knowing that there was nothing to do now but returned to the charred remnants of his home and finish what he had started.

 

05\. Memories/Past

Memories surround the two of them, and follow them everywhere they go. Some are happy memories, of dances and stolen kisses. Others are not so happy, words spoken in haste that could never be taken back. Others are darker still, filled with pain and desperation and the fear of what could have been had she shown up just a few seconds later.

They do not talk about the past much, though the memories are ever present. On movie sets people inevitably recognize him and ask him about his career. The past would play in his mind like a film, something distant and detached and not quite real. The only memories that seemed to hold any color, that seemed to have any sound, were the memories of her.

Sometimes the past threatened to overtake him. The memories of the depths he had sunk to in his darkest of moments would torment him. But just when he felt like he was about to be pulled under she would look at him, with that perpetually bright smile of hers, and pull him back to the present.

The memories would never leave, but as long as she was there he knew he could handle it.

 

06\. Righting a wrong      

Her words echoed in her head when she closed her eyes. She still could not believe he had been right behind her the whole time. She had barely slept for days, the words repeating like a broken record, a painful reminder of the wrong she had committed.

How could she have been so callous, so harsh? She was just lost in the moment, swept up in the fame that had suddenly overtaken her.

She could still see the hurt in his eyes, hear the tremble in his voice. Her words had cut him deep and now all she could think about was how she had to find some way to make it right.

 

07\. Run to me   

Peppy ran up the stairs of the hospital as fast as she could, desperate to see him. She had to know that he was safe.

Relief washed over her when she saw him sleeping peacefully in his room. Though his hands were bandaged, he did not appear to be terribly burned.

She was grateful when the doctor had allowed George to continue his recovery at her home. Clifton and the doctor had carried him upstairs and settled him into the guest bed, then left the room giving her a few minutes alone with him.

Peppy perched lightly on the edge of the bed, worried that she would disturb his sleep despite the fact that he was completely unconscious. She stroked his hair lightly. “Oh George,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “If only you would let me help you. If only you would run to me, the way I would run to you.”

Of course, he didn’t answer. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and she tried to hold them back. Leaning forward she planted a gentle kiss on his forehead as he slept silently.

 

08\. Here in my arms       

He clung to the reel desperately, the only thing he had managed to save from the fire. He could see the film playing in his mind. He could hear the music play as he danced his way through the crowd, always stopping when he got to _her_. He could see the sparkle in her eyes, hear the melodious sound of her laugh.

The flames were spreading further now. The smoke was thick and black. He slid down against the wall, clutching the reel even closer. This was the end now, his career nothing but ashes save for this one film.

He felt himself slip away. The room around him faded and he found himself somewhere else. He was dancing, and she was there in his arms. He was a hero. He was a star…

 

09\. Haunted      

George was still haunted by his past. Peppy had given him a new life, and he was grateful for it, but the ghost of his old life still seemed to linger. Even with his newfound success, he could never reclaim what he had been in his heyday.

He often found himself wandering into _that_ room in her house. The relics of his former life seemed to mock him, to whisper to him about everything he had lost.

He had tried to destroy it all. He had sold everything that he owned, assuming he would never see it again, yet here it was. It was like being in a museum dedicated to himself. A museum, or perhaps a mausoleum. A place dedicated to remembering the _past_.

Peppy was walking toward the kitchen when she noticed the door to _that_ room was open. She peered inside to see George standing in the midst of his possessions. She frowned, wondering if she had caused him more harm than good in her attempts to help.

George heard a noise behind him and he knew that it was her. He turned to see her standing in the doorway. She looked upset.

He sighed and strolled over to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. She buried her face in his neck. “We don’t have to keep this stuff if you don’t want it,” she murmured sadly.

George kissed the top of her head gently. It was unfair for her to have to deal with the demons of his past. He wondered if she would be better if he left. Glancing quickly at the room full of his possessions he knew that wouldn’t help. She would always been haunted by him, just like he would always be haunted by his past.

At least they had each other, and in those moments where they managed to live in the present they could find peace. In those moments the ghosts would fade and become blissfully silent.

 

10\. Holding out for a Hero

Peppy had been in over a dozen major films at this point, paired with every handsome, heartthrob young actor in Hollywood. The kind of good-looking, all-American young men with strong features and perfect smiles that young women flocked to the theaters to admire. Audiences loved her movies, watching eagerly as Peppy was wooed, romanced and rescued by these young men. The new faces of Kinegraph.

_Make way for the young._

Peppy sighed heavily. The actors she worked with were good. They were attractive and charming, but they still weren’t what she thought of when she imagined a movie hero. She wanted an extravagant, swash-buckling hero who would sweep her off her feet and defeat the bad guys with style.

She wanted George Valentin.

She tried to turn her attention back to the scenes she would be filming today. She read over the script for the hundredth time, but it was hard to picture anyone else as the leading man besides _him._ She knew she would be disappointed when she got on set and her partner was a young, blonde Midwestern boy.

But Peppy was an actress, and she was good at her job. She would smile at the right times, cry at the right times, and the audience would be thoroughly convinced that she loved her co-star. Only Peppy would know the truth- that she was still holding out for a hero.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well that’s it! I hope you enjoyed. I really hope I kept everything in character. I definitely plan on buying The Artist as soon as it’s on DVD and watching it a lot, so hopefully one day I can write more of a full length fic and not just drabbles. I would love to write about what happens to Peppy and George after the movie, so maybe I’ll do that one day! :)


End file.
